


Reading The Leaves

by blythechild



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Comfort, Confusion, F/M, Families of Choice, First Dates, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Nerdiness, Public Display of Affection, Relationship(s), Secret Relationship, Sick Character, Tea, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5151170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blythechild/pseuds/blythechild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once Prentiss moves to London, she develops a love of tea. Reid adjusts his habits accordingly when she comes to visit.</p><p> </p><p>This is a work of fanfiction and as such I do not claim ownership over the characters herein. It was created as a personal amusement. This story is suitable for all audiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading The Leaves

Much to Reid’s dismay, once Prentiss moved to London she’d become a tea drinker. She said that it was difficult to find decent coffee with any real consistency and so she decided to ‘go native’. He was privately appalled by this considering coffee to be more than just a beverage and rather like a ritual or talisman against the horror of the work, and that’s when it hit him like a ball-peen hammer between the eyes: it was about making a clean break from her former self. The realization was hard to swallow but once it had been made he didn’t comment further on it. He was her friend and had failed to see how her life in D.C. was eating away at her until it was too late, so he’d support the tea thing, and whatever else she needed in order to be successful in this new path she’d chosen. After all, she hadn’t given up everything. She still came to visit several times a year and she wrote and called all the time. She said that it wasn’t optional - they were still essential to her even across an ocean. That was something.

He watched her closely when she came to visit in order to observe her new ritual. She didn’t bother with white, green or red tea variants - she claimed that if she were going to go through the bother of preparing it properly, she wanted some caffeine for her trouble. She drank orange pekoe when out in public because it was easily accessible in American cafes and restaurants, but her preference was for English breakfast of a specific blend that was hard to find even in London. A convenient bag of Twinings simply wouldn’t do. But he discovered that her absolute favorite was a blend called Lady Grey by Taylors of Harrogate. When he managed to find a shop that imported it, he bought a few tins and stored them next to his ridiculously expensive Blue Jamaican coffee in his kitchen. Just in case. He tried a cup - for scientific research - and found it to be satisfyingly strong and bright for tea (which he always considered to be a muddy drink). The bergamot was prominent and even as it combined with the rose hips, the drink wasn’t _too_ feminine or floral. He certainly couldn’t drink it regularly, but he did see the appeal. He also lay in a small store of the Menalou vanilia fir honey that she took with it because Spencer Reid never did anything half way.

So he was well prepared when, several months later, Prentiss arrived in D.C. for one of her regular visits and had managed to catch a vicious cold from what she described as ‘a snotty, seven-year-old disease vector’ who was seated next to her in first class. She was shocked that anyone would buy a first class ticket for a seven-year-old. Frankly, Reid was more shocked that Prentiss flew first class to places. Clearly, Interpol chiefs were paid better than FBI profilers. 

She soldiered through it, gulping down throat lozenges and cold pills as she kept up a daunting pace of friendly brunches, pub crawls, team dinners, and surprise outings with Henry and Jack. But by day six of her ten-day vacation she was starting to resemble a congested, reanimated corpse and Reid, tactlessly, told her so.

“Thanks a lot, Reid,” she grumbled before she blew her nose for the umpteenth time.

“Well, what I meant was that you should take a night off. I know you’re not here for long, but you’ve packed a lot in so far. Maybe just take it easy?”

She sighed. “It’s depressing being sick in a hotel. I don’t think room service and basic cable will make me feel much better.”

“Well… come over to my place then. We can watch old movies - just like we used to. Nothing fancy, don’t get dressed up. We’ll just hang out on my couch and eat take-out and you can leave snotty Kleenex anywhere you want. I won’t judge.”

“Oh my god,” she huffed wetly. “It’s sort of silly how amazing that sounds…”

“It’s a deal then.” He narrowly avoided saying ‘date’ instead, and then felt nervous about that near-miss. “Go back to your hotel and do what you have to do. Come by my place around six. Sound good?”

She nodded enthusiastically and hailed a cab, telling him over her shoulder that she’d be less sneezy when she arrived at his place - she promised. He smiled and watched her go, not worried at all about what state her nose would be in later.

When she showed up, Reid was happy to see that she’d taken his advice to heart. She was dressed in jeans and a hoodie that looked incredibly comfy, and she was just Plain Emily - no make-up. Not many people got to see that. She wore her sweatshirt over a t-shirt that said ‘I am a leaf on the wind… watch how I soar’, which was so nerdy and great because she _knew_ that he’d get the reference. He found that small consideration to be inexplicably tender of her. He ushered her in, fussed over her comfort until she told him to stop, then they ordered Thai food and settled in for the evening. Reid had been on a Cary Grant fix for a while, and they had always had a mutual love of Hitchcock, so they started with _Notorious_. Reid was delighted that she’d never seen it and thought she might appreciate the ‘fallen woman with a good heart’ aspect of it.

After the closing credits rolled, and after the spicy meal had done its job and cleared out Prentiss’s sinuses so that she sounded less like the creature from the Black Lagoon and more like Lauren Bacall, she suggested _Bringing Up Baby_ , which he’d been meaning to get to but hadn’t. When he told her he didn’t have it, she produced a thumb drive and then set up his laptop to duplicate to his TV screen and voila - they were immersed in the secret joy that is Cary Grant’s physical comedy. When Grant performed a wonderful scene dressed in one of Katharine Hepburn’s frilly nightgowns, Reid was doubled over in laughter and had a new appreciation for how wonderful inelegance could be. He was fond of slapstick, not because he found it terribly meaningful, but because laughter physiologically released endorphins that helped manage pain receptors. He’d used that to great effect over the years to deal with both his injuries and his memories. It wasn’t something that the others knew about him, but when he looked over at Prentiss and saw her grinning at him and not the TV, he knew that she’d figured that out somehow.

“I knew you’d like this one,” she chuckled.

“I’ll have to get a copy for my collection.” He could feel his cheeks heating but decided that it wouldn’t matter because he’d been laughing so hard. She wouldn’t notice. “It’s just amazing that he could be so suave and yet so clumsy, depending on how he decided to play things. I wish I could do that.”

“Grant was the whole package alright. But I wouldn’t get too hung up on being suave. Players are suave, like Morgan. You’ve got class - that counts for more.”

 _Umm, what?_ His cheeks were heating again but he laughed it off. “How did Morgan take you canceling on him tonight?”

“He was a bit huffy. You know how he gets when his plans are subverted. Honestly though, it was a relief. The idea of going out on the town with a sorta-engaged Morgan holds less appeal than he thinks. Watching him manage the ladies is where the fun was for me, ya know? An engaged Morgan is a boring Morgan.”

“You don’t think marriage will suit him?”

“I think so long as he’s on the job couplehood will get in his way. Maybe after he retires…”

“Morgan will never retire,” Reid snorted. “They’ll carry him out of that building on a bier.” 

“Perhaps,” she chuckled and then it turned into a cough on her. “Anyway, he’s a little less fun now and I had a suspicion that he was gonna invite Savannah along accidentally-on-purpose, and I’m not up for approving the significant other, ya know? And then there would’ve been the ‘so, who are _you_ seeing’ conversation… ugh, no thanks. This is much more fun.”

Reid paused the movie and collected up the remains of their meal to take into the kitchen. She was still coughing but didn’t seem to notice. 

“Well, thanks for that,” he called back to her as he set his kettle on the stove to boil. “The fact that you blew him off to spend the evening with me is something I’m going to work him over with until it ceases to be amusing. Which will be never, by the way.”

She laughed from the living room as he set the things he needed onto a tray. 

“The way you two go at each other… it seems almost mean sometimes. Or like a relationship.”

“Please. Bald doesn’t do it for me. Although I once had hair longer than Savannah’s, so I can’t speak for Morgan on that one…” Did it seem like a relationship? That was a weird thing to say, even as a joke. “And we prank each other because it’s something he respects. I think he thinks that he’s helping to thicken my skin or something, though he doesn’t know that I’ve been punking folks at a college level since _before_ I made it to college.”

“Well, if that’s true, it’s nice that you’re letting him have that. Like I said, you’ve got class, Doctor.”

“My motives aren’t _that_ selfless, Emily. I enjoy showing him up a little too much, I think. He’s so good at so many things…”

The water boiled and he made his way back to the living room, placing the tray on his coffee table without explanation. She watched him as his hands fiddled with the cups and hovered over the non-descript brown betty. 

“I like to show him that I’m good at things as well, even some things that he might not expect,” he continued while waiting for the tea to steep. “Also, when I pull a prank off, it tends to be epic in construction and I feel it’s important for the team to be reminded that I have a deceptive streak. Everyone forgets that… why does everyone forget that?”

He looked up and found her staring at him in surprise and he wondered what she was surprised about.

“I guess we all fall back into cliché from time to time,” she murmured. “You had a definite air of innocence about you in the beginning. Not so much now, but like you said, we tend to forget that.”

“Hmmm,” he mused as he strained the leaves while he poured, making sure it was good and strong - one shouldn’t rush these things. Then he added the honey, stirring thoroughly and gently so as not to bruise the delicate creaminess of it. He replaced the honey dripper in its pot and continued stirring for a moment, considering what Prentiss had said, and then he tapped the rim of the cup with the spoon - three times, as she often did - and passed it to her. He met her eyes to see that her surprise had been magnified and now included a smudge of pink high on each cheek. She didn’t reach for the cup, just staring at him instead.

“How long have you had that one in your back pocket?” she whispered and he looked away, suddenly fearful that he’d made a horrible mistake.

He heard the cup lightly scrape across his table when he didn’t respond, and after a long moment of silence, Cary Grant began speaking when she pressed play on Reid’s laptop again. He fell into the convenient hypnotism of the TV as his whole body tried to undo the rictus that Prentiss’s unanswered question had produced. His own tea sat untouched on the table, so worried was he about drawing attention to it once again. Several minutes passed this way until Prentiss softly cleared her throat.

“Thank you,” was all she said, and when he looked over to her, she was watching the film, hands wrapped around her mug with its rim pressed against her lower lip.

“No problem,” he managed to say back, and then they watched the last twenty minutes of the film in silence.

When the movie ended they made quick work of wrapping up the evening. Reid wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong even though it felt that way. He was a details guy - she knew that. Surely understanding her tea ritual wasn’t _that_ shocking of him. But she valued her privacy, he knew. Perhaps his helpfulness came off as intrusion. 

He walked her to the door and she smiled and wished him goodnight as she had a hundred times before. Maybe he had just overanalyzed everything… they were probably fine. Then she laid her hand, still warm from the tea, on his and leaned in to brush the corner of his mouth in a kiss. Just a brief press and it was over. He closed the door behind her and licked away the hint of honey she’d left on him with the tip of his tongue and that’s when he had another realization. He hadn’t overthought things or intruded; he’d acted as he always had over the years. If she’d started her tea ceremony back when she was with the team, he’d have noticed and done the same thing for her. But now he saw his motives clearly and, much to his sudden mortification, so had she.

~~~

She called him at work the following afternoon. He’d wanted to be the one who reached out first, to smooth over what had happened, but as always he’d spent too long thinking about it. He was relieved to hear her voice and to discover that she was exactly as she’d always been with him. Perhaps she would forgive his lapse - he could hope for that anyway.

“How’s your day been?” Her voice sounded vaguely mischievous.

“Paperwork,” he sighed knowing that further details were unnecessary.

“Ah. Don’t miss that.”

“Surely you still have to file reports at Interpol…”

“Yeah, but everyone’s so polite if you fail to meet a deadline about that sort of thing. It really takes the pressure off.”

“Must be nice.”

“It is. But pitying your adherence to bureaucracy isn’t the reason why I called,” she laughed. “Got plans for this evening?”

He sat up sharply in his chair. It made an ancient squeaking noise. “No… no, not really.”

“Well, I see that there is a touring Tesla exhibit at the Smithsonian right now. I know he’s your favorite sciencebro-crush. Have you been yet?”

“Sciencebro? I’m nowhere near hip enough to get that…”

“It’s like a bromance - platonic love between guys - but in this case it’s based on a passionate, vaguely weird love of science.”

“Oh… well, yes, I have a ‘sciencebro-crush’ on Tesla, I guess. Good one,” he gulped. “Though if there’s a hierarchy to this sciencebro business, Richard Feynman would be my number one boyfriend. Can you call them boyfriends?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” she chuckled.

“Alright.”

“Why Feynman?”

“Because he was fascinated by everything, not just his physics and math interests. He was happy to live with mysteries, like love, as well as truths. He taught himself to draw, he made difficult subjects relatable, he had a boundless enthusiasm for knowledge, and he was a stern advocate for truth in all aspects of life.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” she said quietly.

“Uh, anyway… to answer your question, I haven’t had a chance to catch the Tesla exhibit yet. I’ve been meaning to…” He was blushing in the middle of the bullpen and wondered if there was any way he could hide it.

“Would you like to go with me? Tonight?”

She made it sound so normal, like they were agreeing to meet up for coffee or something.

“Do you have any interest in going in the first place?” he asked instinctively. “Wait… don’t you have plans already? I thought that you’d booked up every moment of this trip.”

“Plans can change, Reid. And yeah, I’m interested enough in Tesla to give it a whirl. I’m not a science ignoramus, you know…”

“Of… of course not. I-I didn’t m-mean to say-”

“Would you like to go?” she interrupted.

“Yes. Yes, I would.” Thank god he finally got that out. After all, could there be a better evening than one which contained both Nikola Tesla _and_ Emily Prentiss?

“Fabulous! I’ll meet you at the Smithsonian station… say, seven-ish? Will that give you enough time?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes, I can get there by then.” He was experiencing a sensation that he felt sure was labeled as ‘flummoxed’.

“Cool. See ya then!” She hung up before he could get in the way of himself again.

And now he had to figure out if she was forgiving him or encouraging him.

~~~

He showed up exactly on time but it was a near thing. Public transit had this Murphy’s Law-like property of being totally unreliable when you were most in need of it. Reid felt this to be a universal law of transit and not a D.C.-based phenomenon. Regardless, it was always upsetting when it happened. Prentiss didn’t seem fazed by it and happily chatted as they walked from the station to the Museum of Natural History, looping her arm casually through his as they strolled. He was nervous all over again and hoped that it didn’t show too much - it would be great if he could act like a confident adult just once in his life. But when they got into the exhibit, he became immersed in his encyclopedic knowledge of Tesla and began to ramble on about it in a way that everyone always mistook for nerves rather than enthusiasm. He suddenly felt like his old self - happy in his sphere of comforting knowledge - and the quiet smile that Prentiss wore as she followed him through the museum, gesticulating and spouting off facts as he went, didn’t break his revelry. In time, he realized that he’d been talking non-stop, and told himself to take a breath and check in with her.

“That was probably a lot more than you needed to know about nineteenth century invention rivalries,” he shuffled.

“On the contrary,” she smiled back. “I didn’t know Edison was _that_ much of an asshole. You really can’t get enough of historical Schadenfreude, in my opinion.”

“I know, right? What a douchebag.”

Prentiss cackled and it bounced off the walls of the exhibit like a whole bunch of arrows pointing directly at her. She clapped her hand over her mouth quickly before security got a good look at them. 

“I can’t believe you just said that.” 

“Neither can I, really,” he smirked.

They walked a little further and she looped her arm in his again. He took a deep breath and decided to get it out in the open.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the tea thing. Maybe that came off as creepy. I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable, honest.”

She stopped but held onto his arm, forcing him to stop as well.

“It wasn’t creepy at all, Spencer. It was exceptionally considerate. But I’m wondering why it took you so long to say something about it.”

He bit his lip. “What do you think I said, exactly? ‘Cause I’m confused about that.”

“Well… _that_ level of attention to detail usually connotes more than friendship.” 

Her expression turned rosy. He looked to his shoes. She shuffled beside him and eventually cleared her throat.

“Was I mistaken about that?” she asked.

“No,” he shrugged after a long, painful break. “I dunno… if you’d asked me six months ago, my answer would’ve been different. I’m not sure when this happened… _how_ or _why_ it’s happened…”

“Does the how or why really matter?”

“It does since it happened while you weren’t around. When so many years went by when it wasn’t a factor at all, I think the how and why are very important.”

She paused, holding something in that he could see was on the tip of her tongue. And then she decided to go another way with it.

“Stop trying to fill your head with science, Spencer. Filling it with love should be enough.”

He stared as his mouth fell open. “Oh, you fight dirty…” he breathed.

She smiled but had the manners to look a little sheepish. “I’ll admit that I Googled a little after our phone call this afternoon…”

“Well, all nerdy rationalizations aside, my questions become irrelevant if you feel differently. This isn’t just about me, Emily.”

“That’s true,” she sighed. “I feel a little confused about this as well. But I also know a large part of the reason why I make these trips back to D.C. is to see you.”

He swallowed hard as a pack of school kids roared past them like marauding beasts of the wild plains, a harried teacher skittering vainly after them. He didn’t even notice; he just laid his hand across hers in the crook of his arm.

“I miss you.” Her voice was barely heard above the din of rebel fifth graders. “Much more than I thought I would. It caught me by surprise.”

“Oh.” He took a step closer, now looking at her feet instead of his own. It felt like progress. “Well… that’s important information.”

She laughed and when it bubbled out of her it sounded equal parts amusement and relief. He found it made him brave enough to look at her face again.

“Yeah?” she grinned, all flushed and sparkling.

“Yeah.”

His free hand drifted up to her cheek and then skimmed along the edge of her jaw until he found he had drawn her into a kiss. He had no clue how that happened because if he’d thought it through first he probably would’ve bungled it. Instead, it was soft and sure, and it somehow shut out all other distractions. Prentiss stepped into him a little, her hand slipping up his arm and pulling him closer so that he felt she was in it too. That small act made him dizzy as his third realization in two days hit home: he was kissing a friend in a not-so-friendly way. It felt as though reality had shifted on him.

He broke away gently, shock sinking in as he found himself breathless. Prentiss was looking at him with a matching expression, and then the look collapsed as squeaky kissy noises sounded behind him. He turned and saw two escapees from the school trip not far away making the sounds along with some rude hand gestures just as their teacher appeared and corralled them back to the main group. She shot Reid and Prentiss a look that was half apology and half distaste for their public display.

“Nosy rug rats…” Prentiss muttered, and then she gasped. “Oh, Spence… I got so carried away that I forgot all about my cold! And now I’ve gone and swapped spit here and probably given you all sorts of coughing, sneezing, kid cooties… how rude of me.”

Reid blinked for a moment. 

“There are over one hundred different viruses that can result in the common cold. All of those viruses have varying strengths and react uniquely with an individual’s immune system. And while many doctors maintain that the average sufferer is only contagious from the onset of infection, where no symptoms are present, through the first three to five days _after_ symptoms manifest, there is no definitive timeline of contagion because of the disparate factors of strain, immunity, level and commencement of infection. Chances are you’ve already contaminated me. I could get sick or I might be fine; it could happen by coming in contact with saliva or mucosal fluids, or it could happen by merely touching the same doorknob as you within the virus’s half-life. The variables are so immense that it isn’t something you can realistically avoid, but much more importantly to _this exact situation_ , I couldn’t care less if you did infect me, Emily. _Really._ ” 

He squeezed his hand over hers on his arm to emphasize his point. 

“Besides which, do you have any idea how much aerosolized spit we produce while speaking aloud? It’s horrifying. I mean, it’s a wonder that we all aren’t dying of one pathogen or another, and then there’s the reinfection rate within close knit social groups… Remember that time Henry caught something at daycare and brought it home to Will and J.J.? And J.J. brought it to work and we all traded it back and forth for four months. Hotch took it home to Jack, and then brought it back once Jack had spread it around school-”

“Okay, Spence, I get it: life is disgusting and we’re all gonna die,” she spoke up loudly to get his attention. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

He took a moment to realign his thinking. “Oh. Alright…”

She helped him out by stepping forward until she was up against him. It cleared out what was left of his rational thought process leaving nothing but instinct to guide him. That turned out to be exactly the right choice. He didn’t do anything but feel. He wrapped his arms around her and she felt smaller than he imagined under his hands, but she was also much stronger, which didn’t surprise him at all. She leaned into their kiss, opened up to it, and he tasted her sigh as they slid together. That split second was miraculous to him and he suddenly didn’t want to let it go; he wanted their one shared breath to keep them going forever so that he’d never have to move forward into a moment where it might have just been a big misunderstanding. He pulled her tight, made the most of it, and hoped it was good enough before lightheadedness forced them apart. She didn’t go far, brushing the tip of his nose with hers as he felt her breath against his lips. He took it as a good sign.

“Emily, may I see you again… before you leave for London?” he whispered.

Her face went scarlet but she gave him a grin like she did when he was showing her a magic trick. “I’ve got three days left. You can see me whenever you want.”

“Are you sure? What about your plans?”

“What about ‘em?” she shot back with a mischievous eyebrow, and, boy, if that didn’t make him feel ten feet tall all of a sudden.

“Okay,” he grinned and nodded, making their lips brush together lightly. “This might be the first time in my career that I wish for several days of mind-numbing paperwork at the office.”

She knew what he was talking about. “If a case comes up, you’ve gotta go. You know I’ll understand that.”

He pulled her closer so that they were leaning against one another from waist to shoulders. He didn’t really believe in superstition but crossed his fingers as they pressed into her back just for good measure. Then his mind started chattering at him again.

“How is this going to work, Em?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she sighed. “And the potential with us is that we’ll analyze it to a crazy degree before it really has a chance to start and that’ll put the kibosh on everything.”

“Kibosh?”

“Hmmm,” she didn’t elaborate. “So, I say that we deal with it one step at a time. No projecting down the road in order to anticipate potential problems. What do you think?”

“I think that’s going to be a major challenge for both of us,” he murmured and it seemed to deflate her in his arms. He nipped at her lower lip quickly to get her attention back. “But I’m up for it if you are.”

She didn’t answer but rolled up on her feet so she could be level with him when she kissed him again. This time he felt her fingers in his hair and a new urgency as she moved and pulled at him. It felt too great for his mind to metaphor about. It also felt as if he’d just signed on for something that was going to take all of his energy and intelligence to successfully navigate. The risk of failure made the whole enterprise strangely exciting, and he decided that he’d investigate that contradictory impulse later once he’d recovered from feeling Prentiss’s warmth and tasting her lips and wanting to do impolite things to her.

A person cleared their throat behind them and it made them both jump apart. A Smithsonian security guard was giving them a smug smile but he didn’t say anything.

Reid shrugged and then collected Prentiss’s hand into his. “Yeah, okay… we’re going.”

They headed for the exit and Reid felt the security guard’s eyes following them. Prentiss wormed her fingers between his as they walked.

“There sure are a lot of kissing police in this place,” she muttered.

“Perhaps it’s the flavor of the exhibit. Tesla was asexual his whole life but shortly before he died he claimed to have fallen in love with a white pigeon.” 

“That sounds unfulfilling, and a hell of lot germy-er than kissing someone with kid cooties.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on avian pathogens…” Reid chuckled softly.

“Tell me that you’ve never fallen for the member of another species, Spencer.” She was laughing with him. “That might be weirdness that I couldn’t wrap my head around.”

“Nope, I’m strictly homo sapiens all the way. I’m a slave to my irrational instincts just like everyone else. Like Feynman said when likening physics to sex: it may give some practical results, but that’s not why we do it. I completely agree, in regards to both subject areas.”

“Now _that_ is important information!” Prentiss hooted and then they both hurried towards the main entrance before security finally had enough and physically tossed them from the building.

~~~~

Prentiss cancelled a brunch with J.J. and Garcia, and then a ‘make-up’ outing with Morgan. She’d just barely squeezed in coffee with Rossi before she left, and it made the team crabby and speculative about her latest visit after she was gone. Morgan in particular seemed especially put out.

“She said she wanted to see all of us but it felt like it was inconvenient this time,” he grumbled at his desk in the bullpen.

“Ten days isn’t very long,” Garcia twirled a frilly pen top in his direction to amuse him as she perched on the edge of his desk. “And she has a lot of friends over here. She’s just a busy, glorious, social butterfly, D. I mean, she cancelled on all of us at one point or another, right? It’s not personal.”

“And she had that miserable cold too,” J.J. added but still seemed disappointed. “I was kinda glad she bailed on me so that I didn’t give it to Henry.”

Reid sat hunched over his latest file. He sneezed and then blew his nose loudly.

“Well, I saw her and I’m as healthy as an ox,” Rossi smirked. “Clearly, she doesn’t like any of you enough to threaten you with microbes.”

J.J. threw a wadded up piece of paper at him.

“She didn’t cancel on Hotch either.” Everyone looked over at Reid when he spoke up. “And she took Jack to the zoo. Both of them are fine. I second Rossi’s theory: she doesn’t like you guys at all.”

Another piece of paper sailed through the air at Reid’s head. He grinned and then began to cough dramatically. Everyone took a subtle step backwards.

“Well, clearly you saw her as well, and didn’t do so well at fighting off her germs,” Morgan nodded towards the mess of abandoned tissues strewn across his desk.

He certainly hadn’t fought the germs – he had invited them in. “I went to see the Tesla exhibit at the Smithsonian last week and there were a bunch of kids there. I could’ve gotten this from them. But, yeah, I saw her while she was here.”

Aside from his office hours, Reid and Prentiss had spent most of her remaining three days together. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, but he convinced himself that they could make it work if they tried hard enough. He’d already put in his vacation request for next month, which had caused Hotch to give Reid an uncharacteristic ‘are you serious’ eyebrow arch when he’d dropped off the paperwork.

“Face it, Morgan,” he grinned once he had the coughing under control. “Rossi, Hotch and I rate, and you do not. It’s that simple.”

Yeah, he was going to keep throwing this in Morgan’s face until the end of time. Emily Prentiss chose _him_ over all others, even if the rest of the team was unaware of it. That wasn’t ever going to get old. 

“Oh yeah, Pretty Boy? Fairly confident over there in your gross little snot web, aren’t you?” Morgan leaned back in his chair. “We’ll see who she picks when she comes back at Christmas.”

“Yes, we will,” Reid smiled, unfazed by Morgan’s challenge. He rose from his desk with a sniffle of triumph, retrieved his mug and headed off for the kitchen. It was time for another cup of tea.

**Author's Note:**

> The quote on Prentiss's t-shirt is from the movie Serenity (and if you are a nerd and didn't get that reference, please hand in your credentials on the way out).
> 
> Prentiss paraphrases the following quote by Richard Feynman: "Tell your son to stop trying to fill your head with science—for to fill your heart with love is enough." (from a letter sent to the parent of one of his grad students).
> 
> Reid refers to this Feynman quote: "Physics is like sex: sure, it may give some practical results, but that's not why we do it."
> 
> If you know nothing about Tesla [here is a fun cartoon about his life](http://theoatmeal.com/comics/tesla). He was a very strange fellow and I mean that in the best possible sense - you should look him up.


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